Friday, 29 April 2016

In 1979 Lyrita Recorded Edition
issued the premiere recording of Frank Bridge’s Oration: Concerto elegiac for cello and orchestra, H.180 (1930).
The London Philharmonic Orchestra was conducted by Nicolas Braithwaite with the
cellist Julian Lloyd Webber. Oration
was coupled with the present ‘Allegro moderato’ and the ‘Two Poems’ with epigraphs
by Richard Jefferies, H.118 (1915). JW (John Warrack) reviewing the record for The Gramophone (January 1980) considered
the ‘Allegro moderato’ as ‘small by comparison’ to Oration. Conversely, in the
May 1980 edition of the same journal, John Steane regards all the works on this
album as being ‘wholly compelling and often very powerful, [however] there is
something here that does not carry total conviction.’

In his assessment of the re-issue of the Lyrita recording, Andrew Achenbach
in his ‘Round Up’ of ‘The Best of British Returns’ (The Gramophone Awards 2006) insists that Braithwaite’s reading ‘remain[s]
unrivalled in [his] book.’

A quartet of a century later,
Chandos released ‘Volume 4’ of their conspectus of Bridge’s orchestral music.
Once again, the coupling included Oration,
with the cello soloist Alban Gerhardt. Other works featured were Rebus: overture for orchestra Lament
(1915) and A Prayer for chorus and orchestra, H.140 (1916-18). Richard Hickox
conducted the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Andrew Achenbach (The Gramophone, June 2004) considered
this CD ‘the most appealing and varied instalment yet’ in the present
series. He was impressed by most of the
music here, nevertheless he feels that ‘Hickox and company seem less
comfortable in Anthony Pople’s completion of the patiently argued opening ‘Allegro
moderato’…As recorded, the BBC NOW strings lack breadth of tone, and Hickox’s
conception doesn’t have the grip of its Lyrita predecessor.’

Slightly more positively, Andrew
Farach-Colton (The Gramophone October
2007) whilst reviewing the CD re-issue of the Lyrita recording, considered that
Hickox’s ‘taut, focused reading [which] provides a semblance of symphonic
cohesion,’ balances Braithwaite who ‘elicits the stronger emotional charge.’ He
could ‘not imagine being without either copy.’

Rob Barnett (reviewing Hickox) for
MusicWeb International (April 2004)
perceives the ‘Allegro moderato’ as a ‘classically clean work and very romantic
for that time when you compare it with the bustle and elfin dissonance of
Rebus.’

Finally, Peter J. Rabinowitz in Fanfare
(November 2004) noted that the
‘anguish ofOrationis mirrored, at a lesser level of
intensity, in the paradoxically lean and dissonant lyricism of the unfinished ‘Allegro moderato’(all that exists of a
symphony for strings that Bridge was working on when he died).’

The ‘Allegro
moderato’ is the final utterance of a composer who had evolved through a number
of diverse styles in his career. It reveals a man who, near the end of his
life, was by no means short on inspiration. This is a powerful, well-constructed piece
that balances neo-classicism, romanticism and expressionism in a satisfying structure.
It is to be regretted that the Symphony was never completed, but, on the other
hand listeners should be extremely grateful to Dr Anthony Pople for providing
the performing edition of this remarkable ‘last offering’.

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

It is well-known that Frank
Bridge (1879-1941) had been minded to compose a symphony since the 1920s. Various
other commitments got in the way, including commissions from his patroness
Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge and a loss of confidence in his stylistic development.
It was not until 1940 that he began work on this project. Unfortunately, before
his death, Bridge had completed only the first movement (a few bars had to be added
by the editor) and three sketches which may represent his thoughts for
subsequent movements. This implies that the present ‘Allegro moderato’ is
likely to have been a first movement, rather than a single movement symphony.

After completion of the Violin
Sonata, H.183 in 1932 there had been relatively few new works. The Overture: Rebus for orchestra, H.191 was completed
in August 1940. The previous year had seen the Three Pieces for organ, H.190.
The most significant work of this period was the expressionist and demanding
Fourth String Quartet, H.188 (1937). The only other piece of importance was the
Bergian Three Divertimenti, H.189 (1938). There had been a number of false
starts including fragments of a concerto, H.184 (1934), a short seasonal piece,
A Merry, Merry Xmas for oboe,
clarinet, trombone piano, H.185 (1934), sketches for a Viola sonata, H.186
(1935-6) and a String Quartet movement, H.187 (c.1936).

Jürgen Schaarwächter (2015) writes that
Bridge had affixed a visiting card on the score stating ‘Unfinished Symphony
for Strings, Nov/Dec 1940 – Jan (10) 1941.’ A footnote suggests that the ‘(10)’
was probably added by another hand: it has ‘been written over an earlier erasure.’
It was not the composer’s usual
compositional practice to begin the full score of a work until the ‘rough
draft’ was complete. Paul Hindmarsh (1983) has suggested that Bridge may have
felt that he would not finish the entire symphony so began orchestration
immediately. Frank Bridge died on 10
January 1941, a few days after this card had been affixed. He was staying at Friston in Sussex at this
time.

It is well-known that Marjorie
Fass, the composer’s friend and companion, asked Benjamin Britten to complete
the symphony. He declined or ignored the request. She had written to him:

Benji darling,

What a sad, sad
grief our telegram must have been to you. I am so deeply sorry for what you
have lost in our lovely old Franco, with all his sweetness, his greatness and
his gentleness. Thank heaven he was spared suffering – for his heart just
stopped in his sleep. He had been out in the snow and bitter wind for a day or
so and must have caught a chill on his tummy… By the time… [the] doctor came it
was too late… His arteries were hardened and his heart too weak to stand the
vomiting… Lovely that during this war he could turn his mind with his beautiful
world of sound, and write the Overture Rebus… and he was making a fair copy of
a string symphony he liked very much – and told Eth[el]. that we should like.
Alas the score isn’t finished – and how we long for our Benji to look over the
sketches and see what he meant to do. Perhaps you will some day… Friston
23.1.41 (Hindmarsh, 1983)

In the late 1970s Dr Anthony
Pople produced his performing edition of the ‘Allegro moderato’ from the
surviving score and sketches. The last twenty-one bars of the movement were
orchestrated from a ‘complete and fairly explicit sketch’. The details of the methodology behind the movement’s
completion are included in Paul
Hindmarsh’s Frank Bridge: A Thematic Catalogue (1983).

The full score and parts were
published by Faber in 1979. A study score of the work is also available.

Hindmarsh (1983) has suggested
that this fragment ‘offers a gritty and a powerful foretaste of what might have
been.’ It is clear that Frank Bridge was ensuring that his music was once again
becoming more accessible to the concert-goer than some of his recent ‘modernist’
experiments.

Fabian Huss (2015) writes that
the ‘Allegro moderato’ is ‘classical in tone’. It uses ‘modest forces’ and has
a ‘more restrained idiom’ than is usual for Bridge’s orchestral music. Huss
adumbrates some reasons for this: ‘concentrated expression, economy of means
and forces and emphasis on contrast between strongly characterised sections’ of
the work. He presents a detailed analysis of the music.

The ‘Allegro moderato’ has some
379 bars. The music develops almost imperceptibly, but works up to a
considerable climax. The movement ends on the same chord with which it
opened. Hindmarsh (Liner Notes, Chandos
CHAN 10188) explains that this ‘elaborate sonata form’ does not have the
‘internal range or contrast that his single movement ‘Phantasies’ possess.

Interestingly much of the
harmonic material of this movement utilises ‘quartal chords’ – that is chords
built up on the interval of a fourth (C-F) rather than thirds (C-E), although
use is also made of triadic harmonies in this movement.

On Wednesday 20 June 1979 the
first performance of Frank Bridge’s ‘Allegro moderato’ was given at the
Aldeburgh Festival.

Other works at this concert at
the Maltings, Snape included Benjamin Britten’s Nocturne for tenor voice, seven
obligato instruments and string orchestra, op.60, (1958) and Young Apollo: Fanfare for pianoforte
solo, string quartet and string orchestra (1939). Bridge was also represented
by with his tragic ‘Lament’, H.117 (1915) for string orchestra (1914) and his
Suite for string orchestra, H.93 (1910). The English Chamber Orchestra was
conducted by Steuart Bedford and the soloists were Peter Pears (tenor) and
Michael Roll (piano).

The report on concert given by
Kenneth Loveland in the Musical Times
(August 1979), proclaimed that this was ‘a real Aldeburgh occasion…[which]
brought together music previously unheard at the festival from teacher and
pupil: a pleasantly contrapuntal ‘Allegro moderato’ intended by Frank Bridge
for a symphony for strings that never materialized…and Britten's Young Apollo written for the Canadian
Broadcasting Service in 1939 for the unusual forces of piano (Michael Roll
making much of the virtuoso writing), string quartet and strings, a piece
fairly bursting with exuberant invention.’

Richard D. C. Noble (Music & Musicians, December 1979) reviewing
concert and recording insists that the ‘Allegro moderato’s’ ending is too
‘inconclusive’ to imply that the work was ‘complete in itself’. He notes the
expansive sonata form underlying the work’s construction, but devoid of a
‘development section as such.’ Noble
concludes his review by suggesting that it ‘clearly serves as a prelude for
unknown things to come, troubled things we may be sure, for the music is dark
hued and disturbed, yet expertly written.’
The remaining sketches of the subsequent movements would bear this
contention out.

Saturday, 23 April 2016

of the Symphony No.2 on 5 February 1958 at the
Royal Festival Hall. The almost unheard of event of Boult stopping the
performance at the end of the exposition of the first movement, and admitting
that it was ‘Entirely my mistake, ladies and gentlemen’ is well-remembered. Contemporary critics felt that the orchestra
was ‘taxed to its limit’, however history (almost) absolves their technique.
This was reputedly caused by the leader of the orchestra, Paul Beard’s ‘interference’
with the orchestral string parts: he had altered the bowing. In mitigation, it
is now understood that it was the flautist who misread their part, causing the
cue for disaster.

The BBC Symphony Orchestra was
conducted by Sir Adrian Boult: the performance was recorded and broadcast live
on the BBC Third Programme.

Tippet has explained (this story
has been told a number of times, in slightly differing words) that ‘the exact
moment when the symphony began was when, listening to a tape of a Vivaldi
concerto for strings in C, while looking out over the sunlit lake of Lugano, I
was especially moved by some pounding C major bass arpeggios. I knew them to be
the beginning of a new orchestral work.’
He concluded his note by admitting ‘it was some years after this initial
moment of conception that the musical shape of the whole work finally
established itself. It had taken the form of a symphony in the dramatic
tradition.’ Whilst working on the score,
he (conveniently) received the BBC Commission. Tippett’s Symphony was one of six commissioned
to mark the tenth anniversary of that radio station.

Michael Tippett’s Symphony No. 2
is usually regarded as a watershed between the lyrical music composed up to and
including the opera The Midsummer
Marriage, and the next stage of his career progressing towards King Priam. In the Symphony, he has, on
his own admission, turned to Stravinsky for inspiration. However, it was
composed in a traditional four-movement form and still shows many indications
of Tippett’s admiration of Beethoven.

The present recording is deemed
to be the only one available of the premiere. Wisely, Pristine records have
chosen to include the false start and the applause. There have been three recordings of this work
made over the years, Colin Davis with the London Symphony Orchestra in 1968
(ARGO ZRG 535), Richard Hickox and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra on
Chandos (CHAN 9299, 1994) and Tippett himself conducting the BBC Symphony
Orchestra around 1990 (NMC 104).

I would argue that Colin Davis
has the edge on Boult here: witness especially the ebullient scherzo. The slow movement is given a visionary reading
by Davis. There is also more brilliance in the string playing. However, Boult’s
reading is impressive and thoroughly satisfying. Whatever the faults of the
premiere, it is essential to add this live performance to our understanding of
the music. It is one of the composer’s most exciting and imaginative
compositions at this period.

Bliss’ ‘Music for Lighter Mood’
is a real historical treat. It was broadcast on 21 December 1956 on the BBC
Home Service. As the title implies, it featured some popular and approachable
extracts from the composer’s catalogue. A valuable feature of this recording is
the rather ‘stiff’ conversation made by the composer and his wife, Lady Trudy
Bliss, with presenter Ronald Fletcher. Bliss
conducted the BBC Concert Orchestra in all the pieces. The programme has been
presented in its entirety. Music featured begins with the ‘pomp and
circumstance’ of Welcome to the Queen.
This music was drawn from the Pathé newsreel of the young Queen Elizabeth’s
Commonwealth Tour of 1954 at the moment when she arrives home on the banks of
the Thames. Bliss had composed the march. He declared that it was conceived on
the top of a number 73 London bus, and sketched out on the front of his evening
newspaper. The remainder of the newsreel’s score was provided by Malcolm
Arnold. This is followed by the ‘Ballet for Children’ from the scary science
fiction film Things to Come (1935),
based on H.G. Wells The Shape of Things
to Come. The present ‘light music’ extract features at the start of the
film, during Christmastide. Two dances
from the ballet Checkmate (1937) follow:
‘The Red Knight’s Mazurka’ which is a lively and exuberant number played as the
Knight falls in love with the Black Queen and the second is ‘The Black Queen
Dances’ who performs a ‘kind of tango’ as she teases the doomed and defenceless
Red King.

The Theme and Cadenza (1946) is a
Warsaw Concerto for fiddle. Derived
from the radio play, ‘Memorial Concert’ written by Trudy Bliss, it features an
imaginary composer, beginning in his student days and concluding with his
tragic death as he approaches success. There is the inevitable ‘eternal
triangle.’ The present piece featured in
the ‘memorial concert’ itself and was an ‘early composition.’ This gorgeous Theme
and Cadenza works well as a standalone piece. I understand that only Campoli
ever recorded it: it deserves a modern version.
The final number in this concert is the rarely heard ‘Overture:
Edinburgh composed in 1956 for that year’s Festival. It is an impression of
Scotland composed by an Englishman, but none the worse for that. The only
modern recording is by Vernon Handley and the City of Birmingham Symphony
Orchestra.

Sadly, this excellent CD (in
sound and matter) has been spoilt by the abysmal documentation and
presentation. The CD insert looks as if
it has been printed on a basic ‘home’ printer on low weight paper. The notes
are near illegible: this does not really matter, because the text discussing
the Tippett has been lifted (acknowledged) from Wikipedia.
There is no commentary on the Bliss whatsoever.
Included is a paragraph by Andrew Rose on the history and technicalities
of the actual recording.

This is a must-have CD for all
aficionados of British music. I can easily forgive the dreadful liner notes for
the opportunity to hear the Bliss concert and the premiere of Tippett Symphony
No.2 in such ideal conditions.

When I was quite young, my father
used to take me down to Renfrew Airport, which until 1966 was the ‘domestic’
airport for Glasgow. It was often a Saturday afternoon treat. I can remember once going to see a friend off
on a flight to Orkney. In those days the passengers were allowed to walk on the
tarmac and onto the waiting planes. I
was fascinated by the noise, the man with the batons directing the planes into
the bays and the little cargo carriers scooting about with the luggage. After
my friend boarded we were safely ensconced in the then relatively new terminal
building cafeteria sipping orange juice and Golden Wonder crisps, waving to the
departing plane.

I often wonder what aircraft flew
from Renfrew at that time: there were certainly some DC10s on the short hops to
Campbeltown and Belfast. My friend, I recall, had a BEA shoulder bag: I was really
envious of this. By the time I first flew they had stopped giving bags away.
Occasionally, my father would take me to Prestwick which was at that time the International
Airport for Scotland. It was exciting to watch the transatlantic airliners
taking off for New York Idelwild (JFK). At that time, for me, the Big Apple could have been
a million miles away.

Wally Stott’s Skyways (c.1962) evokes the excitement of
air travel in the early1960s. It is a striking and powerful piece of music with
a big romantic tune accompanied by swirling harps and bells and whistles. The middle
eight has music that is a little more up tempo suggesting Stateside rather than
the Scottish Isles. I imagine that this
piece of music would have been used as the score for documentaries and
newsreels featuring air travel.

To my knowledge there is only one
recording of this impressive piece available on CD. That is on The Golden Age
of Light Music: Here’s to Holidays GLCD
5205.

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

The British oboist Leon Goossens
was born into a musical family in 1897. His father Eugene was a violinist and
conductor. Leon’s siblings were also to achieve considerable fame: Eugene
Aynsley was a renowned composer and conductor, Marie Henriette and Sidonie were
both harpists.

After early lessons with Charles
Reynolds, Leon made some youthful appearances in the concert hall. Between 1911
and 1914 he studied at the Royal College of Music, after which he held the post
of Principal Oboist in the Queen’s Hall Orchestra. During the First World War, Goossens was
engaged in military service, during which he was wounded. Following
demobilisation, he played in the Covent Garden Orchestra. In 1932 Leon Goossens
joined the newly-founded Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra as principal. After 1939 he was a free-lance soloist playing
concertos and chamber music. Goossens was Professor of Oboe at the Royal
Academy of Music (1924-35) and also at the Royal College of Music (1924-39). In
1962 he sustained a head injury in a car crash, which damaged his teeth and
lips. However, he overcame this injury by developing a new technique of
playing. Goossens resumed performance and continued to teach and play until
shortly before his death in 1988.

One result of Goossens’
pre-eminence as an instrumentalist was the eagerness of composers to write
music especially for him. Important works were composed by Arnold Bax, Arthur
Bliss, Benjamin Britten and Ralph Vaughan Williams.

The music on this CD is comprehensive
and covers a considerable range of styles and musical periods. They represents some of Leon Goossens’
favourite works. The earliest recording
was made in 1943 and the latest in 1961. All the pieces have been remastered
from the original records.

The disc opens with the Concerto
for oboe and strings by the Italian Domenico Cimarosa. This was ‘realised’ by
the British composer Arthur Benjamin from a number of one-movement keyboard
sonatas. I enjoyed this piece, with its lovely vocal melodies which are ideally
suited to the oboe.

There are a number of
arrangements on this CD including the Sinfonia from J.S. Bach’s Easter Oratorio arranged by the
Northumberland composer William Gillies Whittaker. The liner notes point out
that the playing of this piece ‘transcends any disagreements about
authenticity’ potentially raised by the ‘historically informed performance’
movement. It is truly heart-rending in
its beauty. Other miniatures include Gabriel
Pierné’s ‘Aubade’, a transcription of Jean Baptiste Senaillé’s ‘Cotillon’, Herbert
Hughes arrangement of the haunting Irish song ‘How deep in love am I’ and Hugh
Allen’s setting of Bach’s ‘Jesu, joy of man’s desiring’ for oboe, choir and
organ.

Special treats for me on this CD
include Desmond MacMahon’s Oboe Concerto. Alas, only the third movement of this
piece has been included. The transcription comes from a privately owned 78rpm
disc. In the liner notes, Jeremy Polmear, oboist and the CD producer, states
that he cannot ‘see [himself] playing it at this stage in [his] career’ which
is a pity, as it sounds quite charming. Maybe he feels that there is not
sufficient depth in the music. Hopefully some oboist will locate the score and
make a new recording. It may ‘only’ be ‘light’ music, but it sounds quite
bewitching.

Another piece of ‘lighter’ music
is Alec Templeton’s delightful ‘Scherzo Caprice’. It was composed specifically
for Leon Goossens by a composer who wrote jazz and classical music in his
career. Once again Polmear states that although he has played this piece many
times, he no longer does as ‘… [His] recital programmes have become more
serious as [his] career has gone on…’

My favourite work on this CD is
Eugene Goossens’ Concerto for oboe in one movement. This is a demanding work
that seems to balance a half-remembered pastoral mood with something much more
edgy, suggesting a response to a largely mechanised, post-Great War society. It
was originally conceived for oboe and piano and can be heard in this version on
Oboe Classics CC2008.

The CD concludes with a wonderful
version of Richard Strauss’ Oboe Concerto. This is a late work, having been
composed in the aftermath of the Second World War. The story is that as the US
forces approached the German town of Garmisch in 1945, Corporal John de Lancie
paid Strauss a visit, and suggested that he compose an Oboe Concerto. De Lancie
was at that time Principal Oboist in the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.
Initially, Strauss refused, but relented and the work was completed six months
later. The mood of the music is simpler than much of Strauss’ work and nods
back to Mozart, as well as having hints of Der
Rosenkavalier. It is one of the masterpieces for oboe and orchestra.

The liner notes are in three
parts. The first section consists of an interview between Jeremy Polmear who
founded the Oboe Classics label in 2002, and Nicolas Daniel. This is a wide
ranging discussion that includes Goossens’ legacy and ‘connections’ between Goossens’
career and Polmear’s. The second part
features detailed notes about each work, presented as a discussion between
Polmear and Daniel. Alas, the dates of composition/arrangement and composers
have typically not been included: I have provided these where possible. The
final section is a conversation between Polmear and the transcribers of the
original records/discs used to create this album, Malcolm MacMillan and
Christopher Steward. The booklet features a number of photos of Goossens, his
family, Richard Strauss and Jeremy Polmear.

I cannot praise this CD highly
enough. It is a great retrospective of one of the finest oboists of the
twentieth century. The programme is well-balanced between serious and lighter
pieces. The remastering of the original records has made it a pleasure to
recapture Goossens’ style and masterly technique.

Sunday, 17 April 2016

Last Love: Romance is one of Eric Coates delightful miniature tone
poems. It was written in 1939, and received its first broadcast during an
evening concert on the BBC Home Service on 8 December of that year. The BBC
Theatre Orchestra was conducted by Stanford Robinson. The liner notes of The Definitive Eric Coates explain that
the composer struggled with this work. He wrote to Robinson: ‘I am in the
throes of orchestrating a short Romance –it is extraordinary how difficult it
is to make a simple piece interesting to play; there seems to be nothing to
work on somehow’.

It has been noted that in 1939 Coates
seemed to be composing relatively little. Only the present piece and Footlights -Concert Valse were composed then.
The previous year had seen the ballet The
Enchanted Garden as well as the first performance of the Seven Seas March. There
were also a few songs. The following year, 1940, saw the hugely successful Calling All Workers March as well as the
orchestral ‘I sing to you’. In the same year lyrics were added by Jack Lawrence
to Coates’ great hit, By the Sleepy Lagoon.
It was not until 1943 that the flow of major orchestral works began to flow again
with the Four Centuries Suite and the
ever popular Three Elizabeth Suite
(1945).

Last Love has a rhapsodic feel to it: Michael Payne, in his The Life
and Music of Eric Coates (Oxford, Ashgate, 2016) has described it as a ‘song
without words.’ The work is constructed in ternary form, however Payne points
out that it is largely monothematic, with the ‘B-section’ being a reprise of
the opening A-section, but played faster.

This miniature is a beautiful
evocation of a languid mood of reflection and perhaps even remorse. I guess
that the title could suggest the memory of the lover that has just departed, or
maybe, the listener feels that no-one could ever replace the personality their ‘last
love’. Whatever the emotions evoked, it is a romantic piece that pushes
beyond the trite to something deeper and more expressive. In spite of the
composer’s doubts, it is beautifully orchestrated.

The score, with 14 orchestral
parts, was published by Chappell & Co. in 1940. A piano reduction had been
published by the same company in 1939.

A number of recordings exist of this work. The earliest was by Eric Coates himself recorded at Abbey Road
Studios on 31 January 1940. It was released on Columbia DX 966, coupled with
the vivacious Footlights–Concert Valse
(1939). Interestingly, Coates substitutes the vibraphone for the scored glockenspiel
in this recording. It has since been
reissued on CD (Nimbus NI 6131). In 1940 Columbia released in America the 78rpm
disc (7408-M) featuring the Light Symphony Orchestra conducted by Coates. ‘Side
A’ featured Sleepy Lagoon played by
the London Philharmonic Orchestra also conducted by the composer.

The reviewer of Columbia DX 966 in The Gramophone (May 1940) suggested that
‘if anyone thinks it too easy to turn out Last
Loves, let him try…as lots of us in aspiring youth have tried – and be
abashed. Even in experienced age, few can serve up these nothings so well. But
surely this ought to be entitles Latest –
but not Last –Loves?’

In 1993 Marco Polo issued a
selection of orchestral music, including Last Love on 8.223521. The Slovak Radio
Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Andrew Penny. Finally, ASV released 10
orchestral pieces, The Enchanted Garden
with the BBC Concert Orchestra conducted by John Wilson. There is no YouTube upload.

Thursday, 14 April 2016

Peter Dickinson is
an all-round musician. Probably best-known as a composer of many impressive
works covering a wide range of styles, he is also an accomplished pianist and
organist with a number of recordings to his credit. However, an essential part
of his career has been his musicological studies. This has included major books
on Lennox Berkeley, Lord Berners and Billy Mayerl. He is also an academic with a number of senior
appointments over the years to music colleges and university departments. In 2014, Peter Dickinson celebrated his 80th
birthday. Although a little late, this present literary retrospective of his
life and work is a most welcome gift to all who value his achievement.

A
few biographical notes on the composer and the ‘librettist’ will be useful.
Peter Dickinson was born in the lovely Lancashire seaside town of Lytham St.
Annes on 15 November 1934. After studying at Cambridge where he was Organ
Scholar at Queen’s College he began to compose. He showed his early works to
Lennox Berkeley who gave him considerable encouragement. In 1958 Dickinson began
study at the Juilliard School in New York. At this time he explored music by
composers such as Henry Cowell, John Cage and Edgard Varèse. After returning to
the United Kingdom, he spent most of the ‘day’ job as a lecturer at the College
of St. Mark and St. John, Chelsea and later in Birmingham. He was the first
professor of music at Keele University in 1974 and there established a centre
for the study of American music. Further academic distinction included chairman
of music at Goldsmiths College, University of London and Fellow and Head of Music
at the Institute of United States Studies in London.

Interspersed
with this academic accomplishment was a parallel career of composition. His
style is eclectic, with a number of pieces exploring the techniques of the so-called
avant-garde. Critics have noted that some of his music has been compared to
Igor. Stravinsky, Charles Ives and Erik Satie. Latterly, his works have moved
into a more approachable, if not populist style, which fuses “a mix of ragtime,
jazz, serial music, and even electronic playback to more traditional types of
instrumental musical forms.”

Peter Dickinson: Words and
Music is divided into nine sections, each majoring on an
important aspect of his career.

I
would recommend beginning an exploration of this book by reading ‘Some
Autobiography: Three Musical Careers.’ This is a major expansion of any short
biographical note about the composer. As the chapter title implies, it
considers the interaction of pianist/organist, teacher/musicologist/author and
composer, set in roughly chronological order. I think he got the title wrong
–it should be at least ‘Six’ musical careers. One of several things that
emerges from this chapter is just how many famous (and not so famous)
characters from the entire world of 20th century musical and
literary culture Peter Dickinson knows or has met.

Stephen
Banfield presents an 80th birthday tribute, which, after an examination
of his career, concludes by declaring that for him, ‘Peter Dickinson the
composer’ matters the most.

The
third chapter takes its material from articles and reviews written between 1958
and 1961 when Dickinson was a graduate student at the Julliard School of
Music. Fellow students included Philip
Glass and Peter Schickele (the legendary genius P.D.Q. Bach). One review caught my eye: ‘Szell gives
Walton’s Second Symphony: The Cleveland Orchestra 5 February 1961. He notes the ‘lyricism’ and ‘polished
craftsmanship’ of the work, but argues it lacks ‘the vitality of his earlier
work.’ The Symphony was received ‘with
enthusiasm and the composer was present to witness a most sympathetic
performance.’ Fifty-five years later, this review still holds water: it is a
definitive and succinct summing up in a hundred words of this much underrated
Symphony.

The
major part of Words and Music (122
pages) is devoted to Peter Dickinson’s ‘Writings abut Music.’ These varied
essays, articles and reviews have been assembled from a wide range
publications. The reader will notice
that not a few have are concerned with American musical subjects, such as
‘Charles Ives and Aaron Copland’, ‘The American Concerto’, and ‘Putting on John
Cage’s Musicircus.’ British and European subjects have not been ignored. A study
of ‘Lord Berners: A British Avant-gardist’ appeared in the Musical Times in 1983. It is a precursor of Dickinson’s major study
of Berners published by Boydell Press in 2008. He concludes this essay by
suggesting that ‘No other Englishman could have come to terms so swiftly and
easily with the avant-garde developments of the World War 1 period, and then
used this experience towards music of a quite different type in ballet and films.’
Clearly, this eccentric, but astute peer, is someone that needs to be ‘revisited’
by British music enthusiasts. Another
key essay is Dickinson’s study of African-American Influences on British
Composers.’ This is presented as a continuum from Fred. Delius whose work Appalachia and Koanga ‘forms a first chapter in [this] influence…’ through
William Walton, Arthur Bliss and Constant Lambert. Subsequent references
include Michael Tippett’s use of ‘spirituals’ in A Child of Our Time and the foxtrot episodes in Peter Maxwell
Davies’ St Thomas Wake.

Another
critical essay is the study of ‘Style Modulation as a Compositional Technique.’
Basically, this is where a composer uses ‘serious’ and ‘popular’ and ‘past’ and
‘present’ musical styles mixed together in a subtle and satisfying manner. This
may be used sequentially or simultaneously. There is more to it than this, but
it give the general idea. Interestingly, it has become one of the techniques
used by Dickinson himself. Composers deemed to employ this method to a greater
or lesser extent include Charles Ives, Billy Mayerl, Peter Maxwell Davies and
Richard Rodney Bennett.

Other
articles include a tribute to the early music player and musicologist David
Munrow, an appreciation of the composer ‘Wilfred Mellors at Ninety’ and an
overview evaluation of a number of CD recordings of Lennox Berkeley’s ‘1940s’
compositions.

If
Peter Dickinson’s writings about music were not enough, Section V of this book
presents a number of significant essays on literary ‘connections’. These
include ‘Emily Dickinson and Composers’, the impact of T.S. Eliot on Stravinsky,
Britten and Rawsthorne and a centenary tribute to the British poet Ruth Pitter
(1897-1992). Two other papers make
compulsive reading: Dickinson’s meetings with W.H. Auden and with Philip
Larkin. Dickinson was to set a number of the Hull poet’s poems as ‘Larkin’s
Jazz’ for baritone/speaker and five players, piano and percussion.

I
do wish that I had known about the three essays (Part VI) included here by Peter
Dickinson about his own music. Writing my reviews of his many CDs would have
been made considerably easier. The first
article examines compositions written between about 1975 and 1987. This period was dominated by his attempt
(highly successful) to use a popular musical idiom within a larger context and
also to ‘determine a means of notating different kinds of music simultaneously.’ He discusses how this has been achieved in his
Organ and Piano Concertos as well as Surrealist
Landscapes and the Satie Transformations. The second paper examines why ‘Nationalism is
not Enough’. And finally there is an analysis of Dickinson’s organ music ‘From
Organ Loft to Rags and Blues.’ This
discussion ranges from the ‘English cathedral tradition’ of ‘A Cambridge
Prelude’ albeit with a bluesy pedal part in places, to the transformation of MacDowell’s
‘To a Wild Rose’ by way of ‘blues and rags’.
All of Peter Dickinson’s organ works have been recorded on Naxos
8.572169.

Part
VII and VIII of Words and Music
include various interviews, travelogues and a memoir by Meriel Dickinson. Peter Dickinson has always appreciated Erik
Satie, so the present imaginary colloquy between ‘Dickinson and Satie’ makes
interesting reading. It was written for the Centenary on 17 May 1966, but was
never broadcast or published at that time. He makes use of ‘genuine’ Satie
comments and thoughts: it is the interviewer’s questions which are tailored to
the answers. Also included is a discussion
between Peter and Meriel Dickinson with the broadcaster Richard Baker (11
October 1994) and a debate between the editor of the Gramophone magazine, James Jolly and Dickinson, made in 2014.

The
final section of the book includes a chronological catalogue of Dickinson’s
music. This begins with the early, above-mentioned ‘A Cambridge Postlude’ for
organ and concludes with the orchestral version of the delightful Suite for the
Centenary of Lord Berners completed in 2015. There are literally dozens of
works composed in the intervening years. Many of these have been commercially
recorded, and these are conveniently noted by an asterisk. This amounts to
close on half of his compositions, which is an excellent state of affairs. I
guess that we will have to wait for the definitive catalogue of works,
including the apparatus of instrumentation, first performances, location of
manuscripts, publication, reviews, etc. Coupled to the works list is a ‘Peter and
Meriel Dickinson Discography’. This is usefully divided into two sections:
works by Dickinson, and works by other composers. I was amazed at just how
extensive these listings are. If I were
to pick one example, it would be An Erik
Satie Entertainment (1976) featuring both Peter and Meriel. This is their
most successful and best-selling album: it did much to raise awareness of
Satie’s music to the late twentieth century audience.

Finally,
there is an extensive index, ranging from Zez Confrey to Elizabeth Sprague
Coolidge and from Walter Damrosch to Johnny Dankworth by way of Darmstadt. It
reflects Peter Dickinson’s wide-ranging interests and attainments.

It
would have been useful to have included a bibliography in this book detailing
essays, books and reviews by and about the composer.

As
expected of Boydell Press, Words and
Music is well-presented. It is printed on good quality paper, with a clear
font. There are a number of musical examples illustrating the argument of the
text. Included, are a number colour plates illustrating handbills for Peter
Dickinson’s concerts and recitals as well as a remarkable collage of concert
tickets made by the composer.

Normally,
in a book review I try to detail who the book will be of particular value to.
In the case of Peter Dickinson’s Words
and Music, this is not an easy task. I guess that just about everyone who
is involved with 20th century music and literature will find a large
amount of interest in these pages. Musicians, historians and listeners will discover
that Dickinson’s writings on Ives, Satie, Barber, Copland, and Cage are of considerable
importance. Essays on Lord Berners, Wilfred Mellers, Lennox Berkeley and David
Munrow will be of use to British music aficionados. Of wider appeal are the
articles on W.H. Auden, Philip Larkin and Emily Dickinson. Of significance to fans of the composer are the
discussions of his own music, and on ‘Style Modulation.’ Finally, the biographical chapters on
Dickinson which open the book will be of great help to writers and critics of
his music, as well as containing fascinating insights into many decades of
musical achievement.

All
in all, this is one of the most essential retrospectives featuring any
composer, his life and works and interests to have been issued in many years.
It will retain its impact through the coming decades for scholars, critics,
listeners, poetry readers and performers.

Monday, 11 April 2016

The first thing to get straight
is which Worgan we are listening to on this excellent new CD of organ music
from Toccata Classics. There are seven Worgans listed in Grove’s Dictionary,
all of whom are related. Some dates in various histories of the family vary
slightly.

John Worgan’s parents were not
particularly musical: John père was a surveyor of Welsh descent: his mother was
Mary (née Lambert). The musical legacy of the Worgan’s began with the eldest
son, James (1713-53) who became organist at Vauxhall Gardens and was then
elected organist at St Botolph without Aldgate and at St Dunstan-in-the-East. James
and John Worgan’s sister (?), Mary, [probably] succeeded her brother as
organist at St Dunstan’s on his death.

Our composer was born in 1724 in
London and would outstrip his brother’s achievement. He studied with James and
also with Thomas Roseingrave. In 1748 he
graduated B.Mus. in Cambridge, followed by his appointment as organist at St
Katharine Cree (1743) and St. Andrew Undershaft with St Mary Axe (1749). A few
years later he succeeded his brother to the post of organist at Vauxhall
Gardens and subsequently, in 1753 at St. Botolph without Aldgate. Finally, he
held the position of organist at St. John’s Chapel, Bedford Row. Worgan was
composer ‘in residence’ at the Vauxhall Gardens (1753-1761 and from 1770 until
his retirement in 1774). Other
qualifications included D.Mus. gained in 1775.

John married three times and
fathered many offspring; he taught his children to play the harpsichord and
organ. These included Richard (1759-1812), James (c.1762-after 1801) and Thomas
Danvers Worgan (c.1773-1832). John died at his home in Gower Street on 24
August 1790.

Dr. John Worgan is now best ‘recalled’
has having composed the hymn tune for ‘Christ the Lord is Risen Today’ however,
I understand that this melody actually appeared in Lyra Davidica (1708) some 16 years before John was born. Better attested is the fact that he taught
Charles Wesley to play keyboard and was friends with George Frideric Handel and
Charles Burney. There is a line quoted from a popular song of the day, ‘Let
Handel or Worgan go thrash at the organ’: clearly he was held in high regard by
contemporary concertgoers.

Some other extant/published works
by John Worgan may merit exploration, if the quality and enjoyability of the
pieces on this present disc are of any indication. There is a concerto, six
sonatas and teaching pieces for the harpsichord, the Vauxhall songs, a number
of hymns and the oratorio Hannah to
words by the poet Christopher Smart (1722-71).

I suggest that the listener
explore this CD slowly. I worked through the programme in track order, but taking
only three pieces at a time. The first-rate notes, on the music give a detailed
synopsis of each piece, and reward reading before hearing. The insert includes a satisfying essay-length
discussion of the composer and his work in general. These notes are written by Timothy Roberts

This organ music, which was
published around 1795, is enjoyable, and leans towards the style of Handel more
than any other composer: it shares ‘the [same] brilliance, drama and grandeur.’

The organ at St. Botolph without
Aldgate is one of England’s oldest surviving instruments. Although, there are
older pipes and cases in use around the country, this is the ‘oldest collection
of pipes on their original positions on their original wind chests.’ The text states
that that organ dates from around the turn of the eighteenth century and was
originally built by Renatus Harris. In 1744 it was stored whilst George Dance’s
(the Elder) new church was built on the site.
The instrument was restored successively by John Byfield the Elder, Hill
in 1866, Bishop in 1898 and latterly by Mander in 1966, where many of the
accretions of the Victorian organ builders were removed. In 2006 the organ was commissioned after
restoration to as near its original specification as possible by Goetze and
Gwynn, but clearly allowing for contemporary liturgical use.

The CD insert includes the
specification of the three manuals and details the original pipe work on the
‘Great’ and ‘Choir’ organs. The Pedal section, which is modern, was not used on
this recording.

Timothy Roberts specialises in
playing the harpsichord, clavichord, fortepiano and historic organs. He gives
solo recitals as well as playing continuo. On the scholarly side, Roberts is a researcher
and editor, particularly of English music of the 17th to 19th centuries. Recently
he has acted as recording producer and sound editor.

I loved the ambience of this
recording. St Botolph without Aldgate is a church that I know quite well: I
used to visit quite often when I was working in London. The CD is true to the outstanding
sound of this historic instrument.

It is of considerable importance
to have this CD of the complete organ works of John Worgan played on this
particular instrument. As noted above, Worgan was organist here for many years.
So, it is a supremely important historical production. I hope that this disc
may be the first of a number exploring the music of this important composer.

Track Listing:

John WORGAN (1724-90)

Organ Piece No. 8 in G major

Organ Piece No. 4 in B flat major

Organ Piece No. 5 in G minor

Organ Piece No. 10 in F major

Organ Piece No. 11 in C major

Organ Piece No. 13 in G major

Organ Piece No. 1 in A major

Organ Piece No. 6 in C minor

Organ Piece No. 9 in C major

Organ Piece No. 7 in F major

Organ Piece No. 12 in D minor

Organ Piece No. 3 in F major

Organ Piece No. 14 in C major

Organ Piece No. 15 in A major

Organ Piece No. 2 in F major

All published c.1795

Timothy Roberts (organ)

TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC 0332

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published

Friday, 8 April 2016

As the
advertising blurb for this short film points out there are more than 20,000 (Anglican)
parish churches in England. It advocates that even on the shortest of journeys,
whether by foot, cycle, car or train, the traveller could expect to pass at
least one or two of them. An Artist Looks at Churches is presented
by one of Britain’s greatest 20th century artists, John Piper
(1903-92), who has selected a number of buildings given in roughly chronological
order. He visits and describes them during this short British Transport Film
made in 1959.

Nine churches,
built over a period nine centuries are explored (see list at end of post). Piper begins with the Church of St. Mary
& St. David, Kilpeck, Herefordshire constructed around 1140 and concludes
with St. Bernadette's RC Church, Lancaster, Lancashire which was completed in
1958. At the time of the film it was brand new. At this latter church, the attractive free-standing
tower has since been demolished.

During his investigations,
Piper ‘reveals the beauty and riches of architecture, decoration, carving and
sculpture aged in mellow stone and weathered glass; the art of the wood carver
and the sculptor, and in doing so finds that through the centuries the portrayal
of the human face and figure has been an unfailing source of inspiration to all
who have brought their talents to the service of the Church.’

The music for
this film was composed by Peter Racine Fricker (1920-1990) during 1958 and was
recorded at the Beaconsfield Studios on May 6, 1959. The Sinfonia of London was
conducted by the composer. The score features flute, oboe, trumpet, harp, 6
violins, 4 violas, 3 cellos, double bass. I understand that it remains in
manuscript.

Other works by
Fricker at this time included his Comedy Overture, op.32 (1958), the Toccata
for piano and orchestra, op.33 (1959) and the Pastorale for organ (1959).

The film opens
with no music, just birdsong and Piper’s footsteps: however after a few moments
the chimes of various churches begin to ring. This is the cue for Fricker to
introduce some bell-like figurations with a rough-hewn tune supported by
dissonant harmonies. Sometimes, as the
score develops the music becomes a little more contemplative, with hints of
Ralph Vaughan Williams in his more acerbic mood. This is no pastoral fantasy, but
does often have an intangible English feel to it. Fricker uses the string cantilena as one of
his devices throughout this work, although this is hardly modal, is more chromatic,
and does not echo RVWs pastoral symphony. If anything, it is more like the
second subject of the opening movement of the Symphony No.4 in F minor. Sometimes,
as at the section when Piper is reconnoitring Shottisbrooke, he pulls a hummable
tune. Views of some fields in the
landscape are accompanied by music reminiscent of Aaron Copland’s wide open prairies.

The mood
changes, as John Piper explores East Budleigh Church (All Saints), in Devon
where Fricker matches the grotesque, but often charming, carvings with rustic
dance music tinged with something nautical or shanty-like. His style alters once again when providing
the accompaniment to the visit to St. Mary's Church, Lydiard Tregoze, near
Swindon in Wiltshire. Here he seems to recapture the mood of 1950s romantic
films, but only for a very short time. This is pushed to one side by a passage
of ‘splashy arpeggios’ underlining the effigy of Viscount Bolinbroke and his
pages.

As Piper begins
to examine churches from the nineteenth century Gothic Revival, Fricker turns
his hand to some reflective woodwind writing which is almost idyllic in its
effect. A brief visit to Sir Ninian
Comper’s beautiful St. Phillips Church, Cosham, Portsmouth, Hampshire is accompanied
by brass and strings.

The music that complements
images of Graham Sutherland’s ‘Crucifixion’, at St. Matthew's Church,
Northampton, features a harsh oboe melody. Finally, as the film concludes with
a study of Henry Moore’s early sculpture Madonna
and Child, Fricker uses a gorgeous string quartet passage before reprising
the bell-like figurations of opening. The film concludes as it began with bells
and birdsong.

An Artist Looks at Churches was reviewed
in Monthly Film Bulletin (April 1961):

A documentary
which looks briefly at church architecture in England from the middle Ages to
the present day. A commentary, written and spoken by John Piper, points out the
changes and developments which took place between each period, and gives
something of the background which led to them.

This is a good
subject, but unfortunately marred by having too little time to say anything
significant. The rapid progression from one style of architecture to another in
the film gives a good idea of development as a whole - from eighteenth century
classical grace, for example, to the nineteenth century preoccupation with the
Gothic as a sop to its own materialism. But there is only room for one church
to represent each period, and often only for one or two features to represent
each church. Consequently one comes away with an impression of certain trends
(if, that is to say, so few examples can be truly representative) but also with
a feeling of superficiality. John Piper's rather poetic, well-delivered
commentary helps to mitigate this failing, as does some very sensitive
photography of these works of art in their English settings.

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Peter Dickinson’s works have many
musical influences including ragtime, jazz, musicals, and pop, coupled with
electronic playback, serial music, aleatory and traditional forms. Composers
who have a clear impact on Dickinson include Stravinsky, Berkeley, Satie and
Ives. Yet all this is not just pieced together like beads on a string, but is
cleverly synthesised into the composer’s unique voice. For newcomers to Peter
Dickinson’s music, I suggest listening to the Satie Transformations first. This is an excellent essay, a
masterpiece really, that exhibits his method of working to great advantage. One
of the composer’s tools is a device known as ‘style modulation’ where ‘serious’
and ‘popular’ musical styles are mixed together in a subtle and satisfying
manner.

The liner notes explain that Transformations is ‘a dream-like fantasy
about the eccentric French composer Erik Satie (1866-1925). It was commissioned by the Feeney Trust for
the 1970 Cheltenham Festival and received its first performance there on 31
July. The City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra was conducted by Meredith
Davies.

The Transformations are based on three of Satie’s best known piano
pieces: the first three Gnossiennes
(there are seven in all). The concept is
to bring together ‘straight and swung’ elements, sometimes played consecutively:
at times concurrently. The music has considerable sophistication at a formal
and orchestral level, in spite of its undoubtedly accessible style.

It should be recalled that Peter
Dickinson and his sister, the mezzo-soprano Meriel Dickinson, played an
important role in the re-discovery of Satie’s music in the 1960s and 70s. In
fact, the composer’s recording of Satie’s solo piano music has been ‘an
international best seller for over 20 years.’ (ALC 1276).

For a bit of fun, A Birthday Surprise cannot be
overlooked. Dickinson has provided three variations that breathe a refreshing
sense of innovation into this quotidian and hackneyed tune. It was commissioned
for the 100th birthday of the great classical music impresario Sir
Robert Mayer (1879-1985). The Surprise
was premiered at the old Free Trade Hall, Manchester by the Hallé Orchestra
under Elgar Howarth on 30 June 1979.

The Five Diversions: Prelude, Aria, Ragtime, Saraband and Finale was
originally devised for clavichord. Dickinson had acquired a Hugh Gough
instrument in 1963 and had decided that this required ‘modern’ music as well as
‘old.’ He made arrangements of Duke Ellington as well as the present ‘Diversions’. The composer regards these five pieces as
being ‘light’. I disagree. In spite of being immediately approachable, with the
usual Dickinsonian eclecticism, they have a profundity, especially in the slow
movements, that is both moving and thought provoking. In 1970 Dickinson made this
present striking orchestral version of the score.

Bach in Blue (2004) has been ‘dished up’ for piano solo, for
violin, clarinet and piano (2012) and now in the present version for clarinet,
violin, piano and strings (2015). The thematic material is garnered from the
ubiquitous 1st Prelude of JSB’s ‘48’. Not at first obvious, the composer soon reveals
the well-known keyboard figurations into the music, supporting blues-infused clarinet
and violin solos. It is a lovely piece.

Merseyside Echoes is fantastic, enjoyable and evocative. Few people
in the world will not have heard of Liverpool’s greatest export –The Beatles.
Folk of my generation prized every song and album and hung on every word
uttered by the ‘Fab Four.’ What Dickinson has achieved is a definitive piece of
crossover music: it also showcases his skill at working with ‘dissimilar genres
and sound worlds.’ The score was a commission for the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
Orchestra and was first heard in 1988. It is dedicated to the composer’s son,
Jasper.

The formal characteristic of Merseyside Echoes is a ‘rondo’ based on
a ‘fanfare’ culled from an early organ piece (I am not sure which particular one).
The ‘episodes’ of this rondo are the songs. Often the melodies are presented simultaneously
reminding the listener of Charles Ives. Interestingly, and perhaps perversely,
there are no direct quotations from the ‘Boys.’ Yet listening to this piece I
felt that I ‘knew’ and ‘remembered’ these tunes from the ‘Summer of Love.’ It
is not a criticism to say that the songs are pure pastiche: they are exceptional pastiche. Dickinson could
have been employed by Brian Epstein any day!

I have noted before that Merseyside Echoes ought to have a direct
appeal to all ‘baby-boomers’ and all who love the music of the ‘Fab Four’. It
demands to be heard on Classic FM as well as on the concert platform.

All enthusiasts of the eccentric Gerald Hugh
Tyrwhitt-Wilson, 14th Baron Berners (1883-1950) will be grateful for Peter
Dickinson’s masterly book on the composer, artist, novelist, man of letters,
and aesthete, published in 2008. The
present ‘Suite for the Centenary of Lord Berners’ originally saw light
of day in 1974 as incidental music for the Granada TV adaptation of H.E. Bates’
short story A Great Day for Bonzo and
adapted for its present purpose in 1983.
It was formerly written for clavichord, but was arranged for orchestra
in 2015. There are six diverse movements: Blues, Jig, March, Dirge, Waltz and a final Blues. All these numbers
are delightful, but I am always particularly attracted to the Waltz.

The earliest, and most
challenging, piece on this disc is Monologue
for strings. It was composed in 1959 whilst the composer was a graduate student
at the Julliard School of Music in New York.
Dickinson writes: ‘We knew that the contest required quiet music, and
that the sponsor’s tastes were rigidly conservative… [yet]… I simply wrote what
I wanted.’ It is a dark, lugubrious work that derives its musical material from
the notes, but not the tune, of ‘People will say we’re in love’ from the 1943
Rogers and Hammerstein musical Oklahoma.

This is an outstanding
retrospective of the Peter Dickinson’s orchestral music. It is brilliantly played,
finely recorded and well-presented. The liner notes by the composer make
essential reading. I get the distinct impression that the BBC National
Orchestra for Wales under the baton of Clark Rundell, thoroughly enjoyed
recording these varied pieces of music.

This is an essential CD for all
admirers of Dickinson’s eclectic style of composition in particular, and for
approachable, sometimes challenging, but always enjoyable ‘modern’ music, in
general.

Track Listing:

Peter DICKINSON (b.
1934)

A Birthday Surprise (1979)

Satie Transformations (1969-70)

Five Diversions (1963 rev. 1970)

Bach in Blue (2004/12/15)

Merseyside Echoes (1988)

Suite for the Centenary of Lord Berners (1974/83/2015)

Monologue for Strings (1959)

Lesley Hatfield (violin), Robert Plane (clarinet) (Bach in
Blue)

BBC National Orchestra for Wales/Clark Rundell

HERITAGE HTGCD
211

With thanks to MusicWeb International where this review was first published.

About Me

I am well over fifty years old: the end of the run of baby boomers! I was born in Glasgow, moving south to York in the late ‘seventies. I now work in London.
My main interest is British Music from the nineteenth century onwards.
I love the ‘arch-typical’ English countryside – and have always wanted to ‘Go West, Boy’.
A. E. Housman and the ‘Georgian’ poets are a huge influence on my aesthetic. I have spent much of my life looking for the ‘Land of Lost Content’ and only occasionally glimpsed it…somewhere in…???
My recently published work includes essays on Ivor Gurney’s song ‘On Wenlock Edge’ for the Gurney Society Journal, The Music of Marion Scott and a study of Janet Hamilton’s songs for the British Music Society Journal, and the composer Muriel Herbert for the Housman Society.
I have contributed to the journals of the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society, the Finzi Society, and the Bliss Society, the Berkeley Society, the BMS Newsletter and regular CD reviews for MusicWeb International.